“They’d take me to a hospital, and that’s the last place I want to see. Just dry my outfit if you can.”
“Glad to, old fellow, and we’ll have a spot of hot tea ready for you in a jiffy.” The officer turned away.
Stan drank hot tea and toasted himself inside the blanket until they were near the port where they were to put in. By that time his clothing had been dried by one of the machinist mate’s men in the engine room.
Getting dressed Stan went on deck. They were edging in beside a pier. Stan was the first over the side. He shook hands with the British officer and waved to the crew, then he headed for a row of cars parked along the street near the wharf. Picking out a car with a uniformed girl at the wheel he walked over to it.
“Hi, Yank,” the girl greeted him. “You look a bit wrinkled.”
“I just had my daily bath in the channel.” Stan grinned at the girl. “My butler forgot to pack my bathing suit so I went in as is. How about a lift?”
“This is Sir Eaton Pelham’s car. I’m afraid it isn’t available.” She smiled sweetly when she said it.
Stan glanced at the other cars. There were no other drivers about. He looked back at the girl.
“Sir Eaton a kindhearted man?” he asked.
“Very,” she assured him. “He carries a pocketful of cracker crumbs for the pigeons.”